


how to surprise your incredibly nosy boyfriend: a guide

by elesssar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, M/M, also slightly gratuitous use of russian pet names, gratuitous clumsiness, the eggplant emoji as a secondary character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesssar/pseuds/elesssar
Summary: not written by katsuki yuuri, the least subtle person on the planet, because oh my god keeping secrets from viktor is pretty much impossible





	

“I just wanted your opinion on something,” Yuuri begins. He’s sitting at his desk, facetiming with Phichit.

“Hey, sure, what’s up?” Phichit’s eyes crinkle up into crescent moons as he smiles. He’s at the gym back in Thailand, but he’s not working out. He’s lying on a yoga mat, using Yuuri’s call as an excuse to take a break.

“You know that conservatory student, Ana?” Yuuri says.

“The one who composed your _gold medal winning free skate song_?” Phichit laughs. He takes almost every opportunity to remind Yuuri of his success at the Grand Prix Final. He knows it makes Yuuri happily embarrassed – like now. Yuuri ducks his head in a vain attempt to hide his smile. Phichit notices, and grins.

“That’s the one,” Yuuri confirms.

“What about her?”

“Well, I was just wondering…do you think she’d be willing to compose something else for me? I mean, I don’t need you to ask her or anything, I have her email, but do you think she would?”

“Probably! Have you changed your mind about coming back for next season already?” Phichit jokes. Yuuri scratches the back of his head.

“Ah, no, but…similar, I guess? It’s for Viktor’s birthday present.”

“Ooh,” Phichit sits up so fast his head spins, “what are you planning?”

Phichit is _way_ overly invested in Yuuri and Viktor’s relationship – Yuuri half suspects that he’s one of the primary contributors to the ‘victuuri4lyfe’ fan account on Instagram. Yuuri doesn’t mind though. It’s great to know that he has Phichit’s unwavering support.

“Um, well…I’ve been starting to put together a piece for him – not for _him_ , but, for me to do _for_ him,” Yuuri blushes. Phichit sniggers.

“Yuuri, is this some weird sex thing? Because if it is, I don’t wanna know – I mean I totally do wanna know because _oh my god_ …”

“Nooo!” Yuuri wails, faceplanting his desk in embarrassment.

Phichit just laughs and laughs.

“Let me guess, let me guess!” he says, once he’s caught his breath, “you want to perform a piece for him about how much you _looooove_ him, and hopefully he’ll take all his clothes off and throw himself at you?”

“Ahhhh,” Yuuri buries his face in his hands, “I never should have called you and asked you! Ahh!”

“Oh no, I totally support it,” Phichit grins, “I don’t know Viktor as well as you do, obviously, but I think he’ll be totally into it!”

“Okay good that was all I wanted to know,” Yuuri says quickly. Phichit’s smug grin is totally embarrassing.

“Well, I think Ana would be happy to do compose something for you!” Phichit says, “By the way, can I see it before you show Viktor?”

“I guess,” Yuuri says, “it would be good to have your opinion – but I’ll kill you if you upload it to that damn Instagram account!”

“Hey, I have nothing to do with that!” Phichit says with a ginormous wink.

 

\--

 

He’s cutting things pretty fine, but when the song arrives in his dropbox on December 22nd, he knows it’s perfect. Smuggling himself past Viktor to get to the ice rink to practice it proves, however, to be something of a challenge.

“Yuuuuuuuuri!” Viktor sing-songs. He is awake at a disgustingly early hour of the morning and is slurping coffee in the kitchen.

“Mmn?” Yuuri sticks his head in the doorway, and does a double take.

“Viktor!” he yelps, “are you wearing any _clothes_?”

Viktor answers by rotating on his stool and sticking his right leg up directly into the air. The edge of his champagne pink silk boxer shorts are revealed only briefly as they ride up his thigh.

“Good to know,” Yuuri says weakly.

Viktor kicks his knee (is it some strange method of flirtation? Is he imitating a stripper?) and very nearly falls off his stool. He lets out a little shriek as he splays his arms out wide across the breakfast bar in an attempt to catch himself.

The expression on his face is so _priceless_ that Yuuri doubles over laughing.

“Wow!” Viktor says as he rights himself, “that was close, huh?”

Yuuri just wheezes.

“You laugh,” Viktor says sternly, tossing his hair, “but if it had worked you would have been thoroughly seduced, hmmn?”

“Nothing is more seductive than your pink underwear,” Yuuri promises, and Viktor looks far, _far_ too pleased with himself. It is only then that he notices Yuuri is dressed in his tracksuit and has his backpack on his back. His eyes narrow.

“Yuuri,” he says suspiciously, “where are you going without me?”

“Uh, uh,” Yuuri panics, “uh, the I – Uh, Yu – uh, Minako’s! Gotta go bye!”

He turns and runs down the hallway. Shit. He is _so_ unsubtle! He kind of wants to hit himself in the forehead, but is saved the effort of having to do so by running smack into the doorframe instead.

Bouncing off of it and mumbling apologies (to the door, because it’s just one of those days), he speeds out of the house. Viktor is left standing in the kitchen doorway, clutching his mug of coffee and peering after him, totally bemused.

 

Viktor turns up at the rink some three hours later, dressed in real clothes now. Yuuri, who had been getting into position for a quad flip, goes sliding awkwardly forward for several feet until he hits the wall of the rink with a quiet ‘oof’.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, folding his arms, “I thought you said you were going to Minako’s?”

“I did,” Yuuri lies, “go to Minako’s, I mean.”

“Mmn,” Viktor says suspiciously. He looks Yuuri up and down, examining him from his skates to the earbuds hastily yanked from his ears.

“What are you up to, Yuuri?” Viktor asks curiously.

“Absolutely nothing,” Yuuri says too quickly. Viktor raises his eyebrows.

“Yuuuuuri…”

Viktor, it seems, is _quite_ determined to ruin his own surprise.

“I’m doing something secret,” Yuuri says, defeated, “please go away.”

“What secret?” Viktor asks. He rests his arms on the wall and tips his head, surveying Yuuri with a beady eye. “Tell me!”

“ _No_ , Viktor!”

“You wound me,” Viktor pouts. He flops forward over the barrier at the waist, and seems for all intents and purposes as if he intends to slither all the way across it and onto the ice.

“ _Viktor_ ,” Yuuri laughs. There is a moment of silence in which Viktor wriggles his butt around.

“Ah,” he says eventually, “I am stuck, I think.”

“ _Viktor!”_ Yuuri says again, shaking his head. Viktor looks up at him and grins. His hair is stuck to his cheek, which has gone red with the rush of blood to his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuuri says fondly as he steps off the ice and seizes the back of Viktor’s jacket to heave him upright.

“Ooh,” Viktor says, the head rush of standing upright again making him slightly dizzy.

“Your own fault,” Yuuri reminds him.

“Ah, but it’s _your_ fault for keeping secrets from your fiancé!” Viktor says.

Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing Viktor say that – he still catches sight of his ring ten different times a day and is reminded, with a little warm shock to the stomach, that Viktor is _really_ his.

“If I call it a surprise instead of a secret, will that make you go away?” Yuuri asks. His left hand is still on Viktor’s elbow. Viktor seizes his right and holds it between them. The gold of their rings clink together, and they both watch as Yuuri curls his fingers.

“A surprise, hmmn?” Viktor murmurs.

“Yeah,” Yuuri can’t keep his face from heating up, damn it all. Viktor watches him blush delightedly.

“You’re so cute when you blush!” he announces, “alright, I’ll go away, but only if you ask nicely!”

“Please?” Yuuri tries.

“Mmn,” Viktor purses his lips and tips his head, “nicer than that, zolotse.”

Yuuri is a little taller than Viktor when he is the only one with skates on. Bending slightly, he presses his lips to the pulse point in Viktor’s neck.

“Please?” he murmurs against the soft skin. He tastes salt and soap and cologne as kisses his way down the line of Viktor’s throat to the open collar of his jacket. There is a gap between the roll of Viktor’s turtleneck and the loop of his scarf, and Yuuri nips lightly at the exposed skin.

Viktor squeezes his hand compulsively.

“Please?” Yuuri asks again.

With a sigh, Viktor relinquishes him to ruffle his hair and press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Alright, lyubov moya,” Viktor says, slightly breathlessly, “I’ll leave you alone, but I hope you know that I am very very sad about this!”

“I know,” Yuuri’s grin is quick and light, liquid mercury spilling across his face and illuminating it from within. Viktor, as always, is captivated.

“But you don’t care,” he says, “you love to hurt my soul.”

“I would never,” Yuuri says, and kisses him again once, twice.

“Now _go_!”

“Alright, alright!” Viktor laughs, taking a step back, “I’m going!”

Yuuri steps back onto the ice and watches him go.

 

Later that evening, a picture appears on the ‘victuuri4lyfe’ Instagram account of Yuuri standing on the rink with his cheek resting in his hand, staring after Viktor with a dreamy look on his face. It has been edited so there are hearts over his eyes. Phichit is the first person to like it.

 

\--

 

Yuuri wakes Viktor up on Christmas day by straddling him.

“Ung?” Viktor says incoherently, as he wakes up. He squints at Yuuri for a moment, and then smiles.

“Good morning,” he says, smiling softly, “what have I done to be woken up like this, hmmn?”

“Be born,” Yuuri reminds him. Viktor blinks, and then laughs.

“Oh! I forgot! Funny, huh?” He flushes a little and sits up on his elbows. His bright eyes rove across Yuuri’s face, looking his fill.

“This is already the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he says, and then, when Yuuri leans forward, “don’t kiss me, I have morning breath!”

“Oh God,” Yuuri rolls off of him to curl up into a ball with his knees under his chin, “Viktor! You totally killed the mood!”

“It’s true though!” Viktor insists. His shoulders are quivering with laughter as he watches Yuuri shake his head in disappointment.

“Get up and brush your teeth then,” Yuuri kicks him playfully in the hip, “because I have something to show you!”

“Oh! Is this my surprise?”

“Mmn-hmmn!”

“Aha!”

Viktor rolls out of bed with a flamboyant flourish, trips dramatically over his phone cord, and catches himself against the wall with a deafening crash.

Yuuri peeps with alarm. Viktor swears. There is a clattering in the hallway as the rest of Yuuri’s family come stampeding to investigate the sound. Viktor, who sleeps naked and doesn’t care about showing himself off to almost anyone, draws the line at Yuuri’s mother, and dives hastily back into bed. The violent movement of the blankets being tugged tosses Yuuri into the air. He goes flying just as the door opens and Hiroko bursts into the room.

“Yuuri!” she and Viktor yelp at the same time. Makkachin, who Yuuri has landed on, joins in the cacophony.

A winded Yuuri pats the dog soothingly on the head, and gasps at the ceiling.

“Yuuri, are you alright?”

“Fine,” he wheezes, “this is fine!”

He turns his head to survey Viktor, who is sitting up in bed with his hands pressed to his cheeks, his mouth wide open in shock but starting to curl up at the corners.

“Shut up,” Yuuri says feebly as his fiancé starts to giggle.

 

\--

 

In the end, it is some time before Yuuri is able to drag Viktor to Ice Castle. Hiroko insists on a family breakfast, Viktor insists on having a bath, and Mari ropes Yuuri into doing the vacuuming. At last, Yuuri unplugs the vacuum, tosses the cord across the room, and seizes Viktor by his scarf.

“We’re _leaving_ now!” he announces.

“Have fun dear!” Hiroko calls.

“Don’t get too –” Mari starts to say. Yuuri drags Viktor out of the room before she can finish her sentence.

“There’s no rush, Yuuri,” Viktor laughs as the door bangs shut behind them.

“Ack,” is all Yuuri says in response. Truthfully, he’s a little nervous. He hasn’t had _that_ long to put this whole thing together, and he just _really_ wants it to go well. It’s important to him that Viktor gets it, that Viktor understands.

Viktor watches Yuuri starting to freak out slightly with a frown. He’s figured out that Yuuri is going to do some kind of performance for him, but he doesn’t quite understand why Yuuri is so worried about it.

“Yuraka,” he says, tugging Yuuri to a stop.

“Mmn?”

“It’s only me,” Viktor says.

“What…what do you mean?”

“You look so _worried_ ,” Viktor says. He presses out the line between Yuuri’s brows with his thumb, touches the tip of Yuuri’s nose, runs his finger across Yuuri’s bottom lip.

“Um,” Yuuri says, very coherently.

“Come on,” Viktor says, and tugs him onward towards the rink.

 

There is one last obstacle getting in between Yuuri and the ice. This one comes in the form of a tiny 15-year-old Russian boy, who chokes on a mouthful of water as Yuuri and Viktor come through the door.

“Yurio!” Viktor announces, with what Yurio sees as an alarmingly unnecessary amount of enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” Yuuri asks.

“None of your business,” Yurio says crossly.

“Visiting me!” Yuuko says, emerging from around the corner, “I would have told you if I’d known he was coming!”

She looks at Yurio fondly. He pretends not to notice.

“Hi, you guys,” Yuuko turns to look at Yuuri and Viktor, “come for your…thing?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, blushing. Viktor beams around at everyone. Yurio twitches.

“What thing?” he asks, “why do you make it sound so weird?”

“Yuuri is giving me a birthday present!” Viktor says happily.

“Hey,” Yuuri says to the room at large, finally recovering his manners, “we’re having a family dinner later, for Viktor’s birthday – do you guys want to come?”

“Ooh, yes!” Yuuko says happily, “that would be lovely! Wouldn’t it, Yurio?”

Not leaving him time to respond, she gives Viktor a hug and wishes him happy birthday. He is thriving on all the attention. Yurio sighs.

“ _Fine_ ,” he says, like he actually minds, “I _suppose_ I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Viktor beams at him benevolently.

“Oookay,” Yuuri says, scratching the back of his neck, “can I, uh, can we…?”

“Oh, of course!” Yuuko claps her hands together, “come on Yurio, let’s go back to the house!”

“Wha – but I want to see whatever he’s doing!” Yurio tips his head in Yuuri’s direction.

“Oh no, only Viktor’s allowed to watch that!” Yuuko says. Yurio pretends to gag.

“That’s disgusting,” he says. Yuuri blushes. Viktor just grins.

 

This is not entirely true – Yuuko has watched Yuuri practise it a number of times, spotting for him. He also kept his word to Phichit, sending a very long chain of snapchat videos with most of the performance. Phichit had responded by sending the eggplant emoji and a winky face, which Yuuri guessed was…probably a good sign?

 

Yuuri had thought long and hard about what sort of costume he wanted to wear, but eventually decided just to wear a t-shirt and pants. After all, the performance isn’t really supposed to be about anything other than himself and Viktor, and Yuuko had assured him that it didn’t _need_ anything more than that.

So he takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the seat next to Viktor, and plugs his phone into the aux cord on the little stereo. Viktor is sitting cross legged, right ankle resting on his left thigh, and he’s watching Yuuri closely.

“Can you hold these for me?” Yuuri asks, taking off his glasses and handing them to Viktor. The latter slips them into his pocket as Yuuri stumps towards the ice. It’s been freshly zambonied, and gleams, perfectly unmarked. Viktor’s heart is beating very fast. Yuuri takes a deep breath as he presses play on his phone, and skates into the middle of the ice.

 

The piece itself is simple: piano, some guitar, a bit of bass. But it’s not really the music that matters – it’s Yuuri. Viktor has never been able to tear his eyes away when Yuuri is on the ice, but now…

Yuuri is doing something entirely new. With a shocked gasp, Viktor realises that Yuuri has been watching the videos from the previous years’ Grand Prix banquet – he must have been, because Viktor knows that Yuuri doesn’t remember the night himself.

Yuuri steps and turns and _seduces_ , in a polished and skillful imitation of himself that night. Sober and skating, the lines of Yuuri’s body turn hard and elegant what had previously been soft and sloppy. Yuuri knows (because Viktor has told him) that this was the night that Viktor started to fall for him. This was the night that inspired Eros, and Yuuri is channeling that now.

Viktor shifts position slightly, presses two fingers to his mouth, and watches.

When Yuuri is done he stands with his arms out towards Victor, gasping for breath. His eyes are bright, his cheeks are flushed, and Viktor has never been more in love.

He gets up and runs out onto the ice to meet his fiancé. This is…not the best idea he has ever had. Since he’s not wearing skates and the ice is still smooth, he skids spectacularly. Yuuri tries to catch him as falls, but Viktor’s weight pulls them both down. Viktor lands hard on his back and Yuuri falls on top of him with a muffled ‘eek’ and then a gasp of pain as his elbow hits the ice next to Viktor’s head.

“Ack,” says Viktor, “that was silly of me.”

“A bit,” Yuuri agrees breathlessly. His left knee has come down between Viktor’s thighs and their hips are pressed together and Viktor is very, _very_ aware of it.

“Did I surprise you?” Yuuri asks.

“Yuuri! Yes! But you said you didn’t remember the banquet?”

“I don’t,” Yuuri would probably be blushing, if he wasn’t red faced already from the exertion, “I got Chris to send me all the videos he had…it was kind of embarrassing,” he chuckles, “I was such a mess, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” Viktor agrees. He’s cold and his back is getting wetter by the second, but he reaches up and presses his palms to Yuuri’s cheeks. Yuuri smiles and nuzzles into his hands, and Viktor’s heart nearly stops.

“Yuuri…” he whispers.

“Happy birthday,” Yuuri says with a grin, and tips his face down to kiss Viktor. He shifts his hips as he repositions himself to get a better angle, and Viktor groans.

“Huh,” Yuuri says, peering down at him, “I guess Phichit got it right with the eggplant emoji!”

“WHAT!?”

 

\--

 

Softly, warmly, and some time later, Yuuri and Viktor return to Yu-topia. Yuuri’s arm is wrapped around Viktor’s waist, and they stop every few hundred metres to kiss each other. They are so busy doing this that they do not see the Nishigori family and Yurio approaching from down the street. They are rudely made aware of their observers when Viktor receives a snowball to the back of the head.

“Wha-?!” Viktor splutters. Yurio is dusting his hands off on his pants.

“ _Gross_ ,” he says loudly. Axel, Lutz, and Loop are clustered suspiciously around an iPhone. Yuuri suspects there will be a new picture on ‘victuuri4lyfe’ in a matter of moments. Sigh.

“We were just on our way to your place, Yuuri!” Yuuko says. She claps her hands together. “I take it everything went well?”

“Brilliantly, yes,” Viktor grins cheesily, “Yuuri is so talented!”

Yurio looks as if he’s having an aneurysm.

“Er, shall we all go together?” Yuuri says quickly. Yurio has gone an alarming puce colour, and he thinks it might be best if they get moving before Viktor is tempted to go into detail about his many…talents.

Viktor reaches out and loops a protesting Yurio by the collar, pulling him over so that he can sling an arm around the younger boy’s neck.

“I want you both to sit beside me at dinner, ok?” he says cheerfully.

“Er, any particular reason?” Yuuri asks.

“Why, Yuuri, you have to ask? I need you to sit beside me because you are the love of my life and any moment spent without you by my side is a wasted one!”

Yuuri flushes scarlet. Yurio tries to writhe away.

“And _you_ , Yurio, can sit on my other side because I want to make a birthday wish!”

“Huh?” Takeshi looks back over his shoulder, “how does _that_ work?”

“It’s a Russian tradition,” Yurio explains with a grimace, squiggling out of Viktor’s grasp and shaking himself like a dog emerging from a pool, “anyone sitting between two people with the same name gets a special wish.” He rolls his eyes.

“And since it’s my birthday, I should get the special wish, no?” Viktor says, feigning innocence with a nonchalant shrug.

“No,” Yurio mutters.

 

All the same, he sits on Viktor’s left side at dinner. Viktor is holding Yuuri’s hand under the table when he closes his eyes and makes his wish. Makkachin’s head is on his knee.

_Let me stay this happy forever_ , he wishes, _with all the people that I love_.

Yuuri squeezes his hand, and leans over to kiss his cheek.

“Happy birthday,” he says again, quietly and just for him, “I love you.”

“I love _you_ ” Viktor says, and kisses Yuuri right there at the dinner table.

 

After the Nishigori sisters post the photo of Viktor and Yuuri kissing at the dinner table to Instagram, Yuuri receives a text from Phichit. ‘I told you so !!’ it says, and is followed by an unholy number of eggplant emojis.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 2 the person who submitted the eggplant tag 2 the tags of ao3 blog, being featured on that blog is the pinnacle of my fanfiction writing career tbqfh. also if any1 ever wants to talk yoi w me hmu @ elesssar dot tumblr, itll b lit !!


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